


Teenage Dream (Confessions of a Pizza Delivery Boy)

by the_diggler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Bottom Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Polski | Polish, Smut, Spanking, Translation Available, Русский | Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_diggler/pseuds/the_diggler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Dean delivers pizza to 401 Lazarus St. is when Castiel Milton instantly becomes the man of Dean's teenage dreams.</p>
<p>[Polish translation by patusinka <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1069757">here at AO3</a>, Russian translation by Marina <a href="http://madinaaa15.tumblr.com/post/43004520575/teenage-dream-confessions-of-a-pizza-delivery-boy">at tumblr</a>!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teenage Dream (Confessions of a Pizza Delivery Boy)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [MARZENIE NASTOLATKA (WYZNANIA DOSTAWCY PIZZY)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069757) by [patusinka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patusinka/pseuds/patusinka)



The first time Dean delivers pizza to 401 Lazarus St. is also the first time he goes completely stupid at the mere sight of a person. The door opens, and that’s it. He drops his keys, he drops his jaw, and he almost drops the pizzas, but the guy – correction, _God_ – in the doorway catches them before it’s an utter disaster. He barely gets out two words as he’s counting out the man’s change, which takes for _ever_ because he’s so _stupid_ (and he’s pretty sure he gets it wrong in the end anyway), then before he knows it he’s back outside standing next to his car, wondering how the hell he got there and what _the fuck_ just happened.  
  
 _Castiel Milton._  
  
He spends the rest of his shift internally – and when no one is looking, _actually_ – facepalming himself for acting like such a complete and utter _‘idjit’_ as his boss Bobby is fond of calling him. But he can’t get the memory of those intense blue eyes, fresh out of bed hair, lips made for sin, voice made for phone sex, and ass made for, well, _SEX_ , out of his mind. And it really sucks that every time his dick perks up at the memory he immediately remembers what a moron he was, because later when he’s trying to jack off he just can’t get anywhere, no matter how bad he needs to, because, yeah, _idjit_.  
  
~  
  
The second time Dean delivers to 401 he’s ready for it. He’s thought of little else but Castiel Milton since he first saw the man, so he knows what to expect on the other side of the door now, and _this_ time, he’s not going to screw up.  
  
Much.  
  
At least this time when the door opens, he’s only an idjit for a couple of (heart-stopping) seconds, before he summons the most charming smile in his arsenal and says,  
  
“Hello again Mr. Milton, here’s your Margarita and Hawaiian.”  
  
Not much else he can go with given the situation, but at least he manages to say it at all this time. And he’s pretty sure he counts the change correctly this time too so he’s pretty damn proud of himself. But when it’s all said and done Milton says, “Thank you… Dean,” after squinting at his nametag for a second, and at the sound of his name coming from the older man’s lips Dean becomes a little stupid again.  
  
The trip back to his car is once again a blur, but this time he’s flying high and painfully hard by the time he slips behind the wheel, so he doesn’t get very far before he has to swerve down a dark corner and let the car idle as he pulls himself out of his pants and comes all over himself.  
  
~  
  
The third time Dean finds himself breathless in Castiel Milton’s doorway, the older man smiles at him and says, “Hello, Dean.” And Dean’s heart literally stops beating for a second.  
  
Now, Dean is no blushing virgin. Far from it, actually. Actually, he’s usually pretty damn smooth. But for some reason the fact that _this man_ , _Castiel Milton_ , the star of his masturbatory fantasies for the past how many weeks does something as simple as _remember his name_ , makes Dean _instantly_ stupid. Yet again.  
  
“H-hi… Mr. Milton…” he stammers (like the _idjit_ that he is).  
  
“Please, call me Castiel,” the older man replies as he hands over some money, and Dean wonders if it’s possible to have a coronary while you’re still in your teens.  
  
“O-okay… Cas…” Dean replies, losing the rest of the name in his breathlessness.  
  
“Cas?” Castiel interrupts before Dean can get the rest of it out, blinking in surprise and tilting his head at Dean with a considering look. Then, ever so slowly, a smile begins to form at the corner of Castiel’s mouth, and Dean finds himself grinning like a loon back at the man.  
  
They are officially, _finally_ , (albeit accidentally) having _a moment_. _They_. _He_ and _Castiel_. __  
  
Cas.  
  
So of course, that’s the moment it all goes horribly wrong.  
  
“Cassy?” an English accent calls from somewhere inside the house. Followed by a hand snaking its way around Castiel’s waist, attached to an arrogant looking blond who chooses that moment to pop his head over Castiel’s shoulder. “Oh good! Dinner! I’m starved,” the man exclaims. And then, upon seeing Dean, “Thanks, kid. Keep the change,” he practically sneers, pulling Castiel back into the house and closing the door in Dean’s face.  
  
As Dean shuffles back to his car, he belatedly realises that he should’ve known why he was always delivering two pizzas. And English Guy was probably the Hawaiian. Because only douchebags like pineapple on their pizzas.  
  
~  
  
So Dean’s a little heartbroken. But it’s not like he ever had a chance with the older man to begin with anyway. And he’s still allowed to fantasize… And in his fantasies he only delivers one pizza instead of two, and when Castiel opens the door Dean is at the top of his game, so smooth that the older man invites him in to share his pizza, and it’s not long before Castiel is inviting him to share _other_ things as well... until Dean is coming ridiculously hard in his hand, imagining himself coming somewhere inside the older man's body with a cry of “Cas!” on his lips.  
  
But in the meantime he continues providing two pizzas for Castiel’s date nights with English Douche every week. And eventually, with exposure, the stupid starts to wear off as well, until Dean can finally manage a fair amount of small talk with the older man while navigating the exchange of food and money at the same time. That is, until Douche Boyfriend shows up and sneers “Keep the change,” at him before closing the door in his face. Every damn time.  
  
The thing is, Dean’s not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he can talk to Cas now with minimal stupidity, because the more he learns about the man the more he _likes_ the man. And the more he realises how out of his league Cas is, age difference notwithstanding. How incredibly smart, and polite, and unbelievably _gorgeous_ the man is all the time, even when he looks like he forgot to shave that morning or answers the door in what might be his pyjamas.  
  
But in any case, it’s all just fodder for fantasy now.  
  
~  
  
Months after Dean first delivers pizza to 401 Lazarus St., Dean finally finds himself at Cas’ door with just _one_ pizza.  
  
It’s been weeks since he made _any_ kind of delivery to Cas’ place and he’s really worried about the man. He knows Cas hasn’t been on vacation or anything because the lights were all on in his house when he drove by that one time. Twice. A few times. Whatever. It’s not like he’s in a position to call or just knock on the door to check up on him. But now, with just one pizza in his hands, Dean thinks he knows what’s been going on.  
  
One look at Cas when he opens the door and Dean knows he’s right. Balthazar’s gone. And Cas is a mess. So it can’t have ended well. And while Dean’s glad the English douche is gone, it kinda breaks his heart to see Cas this way, and it takes pretty much everything he has to resist the urge to pull the man into his arms for a hug.  
  
“It’s been a while Cas, how are you?” he asks, as gently as possible, because even if they don't really know each other, he’ll be damned if he’s going to act the annoyingly cheerful delivery guy right now.  
  
“As well as can be expected, I suppose,” Cas kind of mutters, and a twinge of sympathy tightens in Dean’s chest again.  
  
“Is there anything I can do?” he asks, and Castiel kind of blinks at him then, like he’s finally registered the sincerity in Dean’s voice and is seeing him for the first time. Dean flushes and looks away. “Um, you know, if you need a sympathetic ear, or a shoulder to cry on or something?” he mumbles, dropping any last pretence that he doesn’t know what’s going on.  
  
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel replies after a long moment, giving him a small, but genuine smile, “But I would not want to keep you from your work.”  
  
“It’s no problem, Cas. This was my last run. I got no where else to be,” Dean smiles assuringly. “And I’ve been told I’ve got great shoulders for crying on…?” he grins. Castiel barks out a laugh at that, and Dean takes that as a win. But then Cas’ eyes kind of sweep across Dean’s shoulders assessingly, and Dean feels himself flushing again, from an entirely different kind of heat.  
  
“Yes…” Castiel says distractedly, his eyes darkening as he takes in Dean's breadth, still somewhat slender at his age, but already slightly larger than Castiel’s lean frame. Dean’s breath quickens under the man’s gaze, and he tries not to puff out his chest in an obvious display of manliness. But then Castiel looks up into his eyes and says, “Would you like to come in and… share my pizza with me?”  
  
And something that sounds a lot more like a whimper than a ‘Yes’ comes out of Dean’s mouth at that.  
  
~  
  
If Dean didn’t already think Balthazar was a douche before, he would _definitely_ think so now, because not only was the guy stupid enough to let Castiel go, he was stupid enough to cheat on Castiel in the first place. And what’s worse is, the guy actually had the gall to make Castiel feel like it was his own fault! Like Cas wasn’t good enough or something! Which is just ridiculous because Cas is _so_ good enough. He’s friggin' amazing! And if he were Dean’s, Dean would treat him _right_ , because that was the way Cas _deserved_ to be taken care of.  
  
“You think I’m amazing?” Castiel looks up at him in wonder.  
  
And oh crap, yep, he just said all of that out loud. Stupid, _stupid_ , idjit!  
  
But the way Castiel is looking at him right now, all watery-eyed and shy and disbelieving, there’s no way he’s taking it back.  
  
“Of course I do,” he murmurs, taking himself down a notch after his vehement outburst. “I mean, have you _seen_ yourself?” Dean huffs out a laugh. Castiel begins blushing furiously at that, and he starts breathing a little harder, but he doesn't look away. So Dean risks stepping closer, slowly reaching up to caress Castiel's cheek, “And the few moments we spend in your doorway talking are _always_ too short,” he murmurs softly, his heart pounding in his ears as he leans even closer. “If I had the chance, I would take real good care of you,” he whispers, his breath mingling with Castiel’s. And when the older man _still_ doesn’t pull away, Dean _finally_ closes the last of the distance between them, pressing a soft, slow kiss to Castiel’s lips.  
  
He can’t believe what he’s done when he pulls away. And Castiel is barely breathing, eyes still closed like he can’t believe what’s happened either. But he still hasn’t pushed Dean away, and Dean knows this is the only shot he’s got, so he leans in again. Presses another soft kiss to Cas’ mouth. But this time he doesn’t take his lips away, just keeps kissing Cas over and over, soft and slow, until his lips find the fluttering pulse on Castiel’s neck, and begin to mouth down the skin of Cas' throat.  
  
But of course, just when Dean gets his lips on a roll, is when Cas decides to snap out of it.  
  
“Dean, wait,” Castiel breathes, pushing at Dean’s chest. “Do you know what you’re doing?”  
  
And Dean’s not sure if Castiel’s asking whether Dean has enough experience to handle an older man, or if he’s sure about _Castiel_ , but it doesn’t really matter either way because the answer to both questions is, “Yes.” So he leans in again, and this time when he kisses Castiel he doesn’t hold back, using his lips and tongue and teeth to assure Castiel he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s never been more sure about anything in his life.  
  
“Dean!” Castiel gasps when Dean goes for his throat, and this time Castiel is clutching him closer instead of pulling him away, and he realises this is what he should’ve done from the start. He thought because Castiel was feeling fragile and raw after Balthazar, that the man needed to be treated gently, but he was wrong. Cas needs to be manhandled. He needs to forget. And he needs to feel like he’s _desirable_ again, like he actually _is_ the sex God that he is in Dean’s mind, because Dean knows he can be.  
  
So Dean goes for it, pulls Cas close and lets his hands roam where they’ve always wanted to, and when his palms finally close over the perfection that is Castiel’s ass, Dean is rewarded with something like a strangled sob, Castiel suddenly grinding his hips up against Dean’s in response. And Dean likes that. Dean likes that a lot. So he grips Cas’ beautiful backside even tighter and this time Cas even tries to wrap a leg around him in an effort to get closer. So Dean hooks his hand around that leg, hitches it securely around his hip, and slides his other hand up to support the back of Cas neck as he kisses Cas’ breath away.  
  
He’s rock hard by the time he pulls away for air, but he’s a horny teenager, so that’s no surprise. But pressed together as they are he can feel every inch of Cas hard against him as well, can see just how flushed Cas’ skin and lips are, his eyes almost black with arousal, and that just blows Dean’s mind a little.  
  
“Shit Cas, you’re so hot,” Dean groans. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”  
  
“Yes!” Castiel moans, nodding frantically, “Bed! Bed _now!_ ” he gasps. And then Cas is pulling away, grabbing onto his hand and yanking him through the house. But as quickly as Dean wants to get there, he also really needs to have his lips somewhere on Cas’ skin, at all times, so their progress is impeded when every few feet Dean pulls Castiel back into his arms, kisses and gropes as much as he can, before Cas is dragging him towards the bedroom again.  
  
Maybe if he were a little older, he would take the time to savour the moment, relish every nuance and detail after waiting and fantasizing about this for months. But yeah, he’s young, and horny, and he’s got months of pent-up lust to unleash, so instead of unwrapping Castiel like the gift he is, one piece of clothing at a time, he’s tearing at Castiel’s clothes, sending them flying every direction. And it’s not like Cas is stopping him or trying to slow him down or anything either, ripping off Dean’s clothes just as eagerly until they’re both completely naked and sprawling across Castiel’s bed.  
  
Ten minutes later Cas is whimpering face-first into his pillow, thrusting into the mattress, legs spread, and begging Dean to fuck him. Dean’s done pretty much everything _else_ to that ass by that point. From groping, he’d gotten up close and nuzzled at its perfect flesh, kissed it, bitten it, even spanked it when Cas squirmed too much… And then he’d spread the flesh apart and licked at Cas’ perfect, rosebud hole, tongued into it (more squirming, more spanking), lubed it, fingered it open… and the sounds Cas had made throughout were so pornstar worthy that Dean’d had to grip himself to stop from coming more than once. They’re both long past ready by the time Dean gets a condom on and climbs up Castiel’s back, and Cas is so slick and spread open that Dean slides home in one, smooth push.  
  
Cas groans out like he’s dying when they finally connect, like the relief is so overwhelming it’s near-fatal. And Dean thinks he might’ve made exactly the same sound, if he could think at all. Suddenly he’s a stupid virgin again and all he can do is thrust and cling and press his lips to the back of Cas' neck while he mumbles incoherent things like, "God Cas," and "So hot!" And when Cas moans out something like, “Unnghh yes, right there Dean!” or “Oh God, give it to me!” Dean obediently, mindlessly, makes the desired adjustments, because _holy shit_ he’s finally _inside Castiel_. For _real_. He’s finally _fucking Cas_ , and he totally _does not_ deserve to be here, but it’s so damn _good_ he never _ever_ wants to leave.  
  
But then Cas is pushing him back and rolling him off with surprising strength, and Dean panics a little at that, until Cas straddles his lap, takes his face in his hands, and says, “I want to look at you, you beautiful, _beautiful_ boy,” before sinking down on Dean's cock again.  
  
Maybe Dean whimpers a little. But he is _so_ on board with this idea. So much so that he doesn't even mind that Cas just called him a boy (because, hey, _beautiful_ ). So he grabs onto Cas’ ass again, loving the feel of all that muscle and flesh straining against his palms, and lets Cas ride him into the mattress. And maybe he loses it a little and spanks Cas again a few times, urging the man on, before Cas is grabbing himself and coming like the pornstar Dean’s turned him into, loud and hard and with utter abandon. And then Dean loses it a lot, clutching onto the amazing, and very _real_ man in his arms, coming miles harder than he _ever_ did from any fantasy.  
  
~  
  
“I have a confession to make,” Cas whispers, his fingers tracing idle circles along Dean’s arm where it lies around his waist. Dean stops nuzzling the back of Castiel’s neck for a second.  
  
“Yeah?” he asks, lifting his head and looking down at the older man’s profile.  
  
“I’ve thought about you sometimes, when I…” Cas lets the end of his sentence drift off, squirming in embarrassment.  
  
“What?!” Dean huffs out a laugh, his eyes widening in disbelief even as his face breaks into a grin. “ _You._ Fantasize about _me,_ ” he repeats, leaning over further so he can see Castiel better.  
  
Castiel blushes, glancing at him furtively from the corner of his eye before he looks away and nods.  
  
Dean grins so wide it should hurt, but it really doesn’t.  
  
~  
 _  
_  
 _CODA (Call Me, Maybe?)_

  
Dean holds Castiel until the older man is sleeping soundly, before he slides out of bed and starts searching for his clothes. He really wishes he could stay. Forever. Well, for the whole night at least, but he really needs to be getting home.  
  
On his way out he sees the empty pizza box on the kitchen counter, so he finds a pen and writes his number across the box. And because he’s _really_ smooth, underneath he writes “On the house. Anytime.”  
  
And by ‘Anytime’ he means Soon. Please. Tomorrow even. And everyday after that. Oh God please just call me.  
  
But since he’s really smooth he just leaves it at that.  
  
~  
  
Now that Dean’s had the real thing, his imagination just doesn’t cut it anymore. Even replaying the night over and over again in his head just doesn’t compare to how it really was, how amazing it felt, how fucking perfect Castiel was. So after a few days of trying to ignore the fact that every message and call he gets isn’t the one he really wants, when he finally gets a txt from a new number he nearly drops his phone in his scramble to read it.  
  
 _“Where did you learn to do such wicked things with your tongue?”_  
  
“Would you like me to do it again?” he types.  
  
 _“God, yes.”_  
  
“I’ll be over in 20.”  
  
~  
  
A couple months later Balthazar decides to show his face at 401 Lazarus St. again. Dean is sitting on Castiel’s couch, the man himself kneeling in between Dean's legs trying to suck Dean's brains out through his cock, when the doorbell rings. Dean has no qualms about whimpering like a little girl when Cas pulls off to answer it, but by the time Dean gets his brains and his cock back in place Castiel is deep into a heated discussion with whoever it is on the other side of the door. Worried at the sound of barely restrained anger in Cas’ voice, he gets up off the couch and walks over to see what’s wrong, snaking a protective arm around Cas’s waist and stroking him with his fingers the way he knows calms Cas down, before finally looking up into the shocked face of an English douchebag.  
  
“The pizza boy?!” Balthazar sputters angrily. “The ‘someone new’ you’re seeing now is _the pizza boy?!_ ”  
  
“Yes,” Castiel bristles. “The pizza boy. Who is more of a man to me than you ever were,” he huffs, sliding his hand down Dean’s arm and interlacing their fingers together. Dean grins.  
  
“I do some pretty nifty tricks with my tongue too,” he winks, and Balthazar turns an impressive shade of purple.  
  
“ _Dean,_ ” Castiel murmurs quietly, his neck heating up in embarrassment, but Dean can hear the smile in his voice. And so can Balthazar, who actually looks like he’s going to explode.  
  
“Bye bye now. No tip necessary,” Dean smirks, before closing the door in the douchebag’s face for good.

  
_~ fin (for real this time)_

 


End file.
